Every Move You Make
by pullingbeckettspigtails
Summary: "i'm the private investigator that was hired by your ex to track you down and you totally caught me sitting outside your apartment in a rental car so hi what up" au


**"i'm the private investigator that was hired by your ex to track you down and you totally caught me sitting outside your apartment in a rental car so hi what up" au**

* * *

The car rolled slowly down the marked street with the headlights off, making sure the only noises that could be heard were the distant echoes of the subway and occasional chirping, rather than the cheap rental car brakes squeaking against the road.

Once Rick had counted up the floors of the apartment building to determine which one was hers, he took out the binoculars Alexis had gifted to him for his birthday and glanced up at the still lightened room.

From the floor plan he had printed off, he knew that the window he was glancing through led to her bedroom, which would be his best bet at finding out whether this Kate had a partner or not.

Honestly, he wasn't sure that his client was correct on his assumption that Kate was cheating on him before she broke it off. Over the phone, Josh Davidson sounded like a desperate man that was clinging onto the broken pieces of the relationship, insisting that his partner wouldn't have broken up with him for no reason unless there was a third party involved.

After about fifteen minutes of no movement from inside the designated apartment, Rick placed his binoculars on his front dashboard and took out his laptop, meaning to scour the internet and learn more about Kate Beckett.

He felt his breathing become shallow as he read an article about how the Detective was shot through the heart at her Captain's funeral, his eyebrows furrowing at each devastating word.

Suddenly, he was broken out of his reverie by a harsh knocking at his car window.

Looking up, he yelped loudly as he saw the barrel of a gun pointed right at him, his hands flying upwards in a surrendering pose.

"Drive away now unless you want to face charges." A calm, but firm female voice insisted, the grip around the weapon unwavering.

"Just let me explain!" He stammered, causing a huff to erupt from the woman's mouth, "If I roll down my window, will you shoot me?"

She sighed, "I could've shot you through the window by now."

Assuming her reply meant no, he opened the window, coming face to face with his target. He gingerly extended a hand out of the gap for her to shake, which she graciously did so (very tightly) as she brought her gun down.

"Richard Castle, PI." He greeted with a small smile, seeing Kate's eyebrow raise in the dim street lighting.

"A private investigator?" She mused, though her down was light, rather than accusatory, "Who hired you?"

Rick sighed before beginning, "Don't shoot the messenger, okay?"

"It's tempting." She replied without a beat, but he continued.

"Your ex-boyfriend called me and asked me to find out whether you broke up your relationship with him because you were with someone else."

"What?" She exclaimed, possibly loudly enough that other residents of the apartment had woken up, "That's ridiculous! I-"

Kate took a deep breath to stop herself from letting her anger out on the man in front of her instead of the man who deserved it. With a slightly calmer tone she spoke again, "Don't you have better cases to follow?"

He mumbled a few words under his breath, incomprehensible to Kate.

"What?"

"This is my first case."

She let out an unbelieving sigh as her hands ran over her face as he rambled, "I'm a fictional crime writer and I wanted an authentic feel, so I went to the NYPD but they turned me down because it was too dangerous and they were worried that if I died, my lifeless remains would sue the city so I took an online course and became a PI but now I think I'm going to become lifeless remains anyway so…"

Kate rolled her eyes at Rick's fast-paced sentences, his words gaining speed and volume with each syllable, but couldn't help but notice the distress and disappointment in the writer's eyes.

"Well," She finally spoke, "If you go to your _client_ and tell him that he's a pompous asshole for thinking that a person breaking up with him could not be his fault in any way and must be his partner's instead, I'll let you interview me for your 'authentic' needs, since I'm an NYPD detective."

Rick was about to say that he already knew that she was a member of the NYPD, but in order to avoid getting himself in more trouble, he took a different approach, "Do I have to use those exact words?"

Kate let out a small laugh, then reached down to open the car door, "Come on, I need a drink before I go to bed, and you look like you could use one too after sitting out here for however long."

He practically threw his laptop to the passenger seat before loyally following her up to her apartment.

When Kate shuffled over to the couch offering the mug of hot chocolate in her right hand, it wasn't the kind of drink he had been expecting.

He had already determined that her shooting must've been recent after he watched her walking up the stairs slowly with a grimace, but when he placed a gentle hand on her lower back to aid her, the scowl he had received immediately showed that help was not wanted, nor needed.

Due to this, he pretended not to notice the relieved sigh she emitted as she ungraciously fell down onto the couch next to him, some of her hot chocolate spilling out of the sides of her NYPD printed mug.

"So, where would you like to start?" Kate asked with a daring glint in her eyes.

He pretended to mull the question over then spoke, "What do you think of Nikki Heat for a cop name?"

Her surprised laugh gave him the confidence to continue on.

* * *

He slurped up the remains of his drink, which had now gone cold after the extended period of time that he and Kate had been conversing. He had noted that many topics were sensitive to her, such as why she became a cop and working with her Captain (he avoided the use of the word 'new'), but overall, Rick had been content with how his evening had planned out.

Instead of being cooped up alone in the rental car with a misplaced spring that was sure to give him a monstrous back ache, he was sitting next to a beautiful woman in her apartment, basking in the light of her hazel brown eyes and the warmth of her smile.

"Not how you thought your first PI case would go, huh?" She chuckled, as if reading his thoughts.

"Honestly, I thought I'd be pepper-sprayed or punched. Possibly at the same time." He replied.

She shrugged with pursed lips, "I could arrange that for you if you want. Y'know, in the name of this 'authentic feel' of yours."

* * *

She almost follows through with her offer on her first day back at the precinct, where she's met with his all-knowing smirk and two to-go cups of hot chocolate.

"Hey Beckett!" Ryan greeted, "You've got a welcome back present." He teased, pointing at the writer who was sitting in her desk chair.

"Says he needs an 'authentic feel' for his new book series about Detective Nikki Heat." Esposito chimed in with a goading tone.

She grumbled as she turned to the writer, "What? You didn't get enough of a 'feel' last time?"

His eyebrows rose, "If I'm able to get more of a feel from you, I'll definitely _grasp_ at the opportunity."

She only just suppressed the urge to dump the scalding beverage over him.

* * *

Yes, I know that title has already been used in a fic that is much better than this one by ColieMacKenzie (/ s / 8495368) but it's 1am and I'm too lazy to think of anything less cliché so shh.

Thanks for reading! Your support means a lot! (also a cliché, but true).

Lou xo


End file.
